


Resolution of Contradictions

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Complications, Coulson being an idiot in love, Coulson contradictions, Dinner, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Flirting, Home, Implied Sexual Content, Makeouts, Non date date, Office Sex, Phil gets it together, Phone Calls & Telephones, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Slow Dancing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, lovemaking, with FEELS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:46:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2521232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skoulson ficlet, prompted by tumblr convos.  Skye and Phil get closer, and...yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skye > Coulson

It had been a long day.

And an interesting one.

He popped the top off his beer and sat down with a groan in the leather chair.

It was old and beat up and worn. And he liked it.

Thinking over events, the nearly botched op, the narrow escape from HYDRA, one detail popped out in the forefront of his mind.

He had asked her to call him Phil, afterwards.

He had meant it as a gesture to make her understand that things were really going to be different going forward. That he was very serious about it.

And also, it was just silly at this point. He'd expended any remaining energies he'd had left trying to keep some kind of safe distance between them.

And all she had said was: "Thanks, but I'll stick with 'sir'."

Followed by an enigmatic smile, walking away, leaving him a bit puzzled.

At least they were all alive, though. I mean, it _could've_ been worse.

There were still some things he couldn't share with her, even now, but he hoped to. Eventually.

Taking a swig of the beer, he sighed, and shut his eyes, sinking down into the chair.

It was nice here. Peaceful.

And short lived.

"Long day."

He glanced over to see Skye staring at him, when the sound of the approaching footsteps had stopped.

"Yeah," he said, wiggling himself up in the chair to sit up straighter.

She was leaned against a column, still dressed in her tactical gear, a smirk on her face.

"Whatcha drinking there, _Phil_?"

A mix of amusement and pleasure crossed over his face.

Seeming even more entertained, she walked towards him when he didn't answer, and touched the bottle in his hands, turning to see the label, as he looked up at her.

"That's not standard issue," she said, with mock accusation. "Someone's got a private stash."

"American Wild Ale," he finally said.

"Mmm. How'd you manage that?"

She knew him well, it teased a smile out of him.

"That's classified."

"Okay," she said, biting her lip and heading to the fridge.

"I'd be happy to share," he offered, turning over his shoulder.

"You can keep your secrets," Skye said, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of standard issue. "At this point I'll just concede it's part of your charm."

She popped the top and turned around leaning against the counter.

"I thought you hated secrets," he said, taking another sip of his beer.

"I've decided," she said, with a flutter of her eyes. "That it keeps things interesting."

"And what kinds of things interest you these days, Skye?" he asked, leaning back into the chair.

She looked up, thinking about it, as the bottle wavered near her lips.

"Tearing down HYDRA," she said with nod. "Alien maps," she continued.

"Guys named Phil."

Looking back down at him, she took a long drink.

Coulson bowed his head at the floor and chuckled. And kind of hoped he wasn't blushing.

He sat there for a moment until he heard her sigh and put the bottle down on the countertop.

Then he stood up, and walked over to where she stood, set his bottle down next to hers.

"Wanna see where I keep my private stash?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"I certainly would," she answered.

"Good," he said, picking up his bottle. "We can have a drink...talk," he said, raising his eyebrows.

  
****

  
"This is where you keep your private stash?" she asked, as he leaned against the door of his quarters.

"Yup," he said, taking another drink of his beer.

"Moving a little fast, aren't you, sir?" she asked dryly.

"I'm sorry...who?" he replied.

Skye started laughing, as he smiled coyly back at her, crossing his arms.

"Right," she said. "Okay, _Phil_ , are you going to invite me in?"

"Of course," he said, stepping out of the way so she could pass through the door.

The inside of his living space was very spare. _Very_ neatly made bed. A few retro objects in the form of timekeeping, which left her unsurprised.

He gestured at the small table and chairs in the corner and pulled out a seat for her.

When she sat down he went and touched a panel on the wall and a small panel slid outward.

"You have a private bar in here?" she asked.

"What? I have privileges," he said, shrugging at her. "It's the previous owner's handiwork, trust me."

"I'll just stick with beer," she said.

Pulling his chair out, he sat back in it, loosened his tie, and popped off the top of the beer, handing it to her.

"Thanks," she said, tipping her bottle forward to clink against his.

She made an approving face after taking a sip and sat back in the chair.

He watched her intently as her eyes move all over his room, taking in all the details.

When she was done, she met his gaze and watched his playful expression as he took another sip of his beer.

"Nice digs," she said.

"I'm glad you approve," he said, leaning forward on the table. "You play cards, by any chance?"

"Any particular game you'd like to be destroyed at?" she asked sweetly, leaning towards him.

"Care to make it interesting?" he answered back.


	2. Relativity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson makes excuses

"Nice night," he said, staring across the table from her, taking a sip of his cocktail.

Skye leaned forward with her forearms against the table, looked around the room, the noise of the silverware and glasses in the background.

" _Fancy_."

She smiled back at him, nervously, as some kind of bland music lilted in from the small room behind them.

"This was your idea," he said, settling back into the chair.

"I was thinking something a little more...casual," she said, looking over his unbuttoned dress shirt.

She had done that about twenty times already.

"Like what?"

"Hot dog stand?" she replied, shrugging.

"Actually, there's something I'd like to discuss," he began, changing the subject.

"Okay," she said, grabbing her cocktail and taking a big sip. His face was far too serious for where this had began.

"Shoot."

"This is as far as this goes, Skye."

He was staring down at his drink, and then he raised his eyes to meet hers.

"I'm sorry, as far as what goes?" she asked. Caught off guard, she set her drink down.

"There can't be anything more between us."

"You dressed like _that_ to tell me _this_?" she asked.

"I wanted us to have a nice time," he said, leaning forward at the accusation.

She laughed at him. "That is your sexy undercover look!"

"No, it's not...," he started, flustered.

"You realize that you took me on a romantic date, to tell me we can't be on a romantic date?!"

He frowned, looking away from her, took a sip of his drink.

"It's a contradiction," she went on. "You get that, right?"

"It doesn't have to be," he explained, calmly.

"You lost a bet," she answered, standing up. "That's all that happened."

"And you are...?" he asked, looking up at her with a frown.

"Leaving," she said. "I'm not hungry anymore."

He fished in his wallet and then followed her out the door into the parking lot.

"Skye, I know we can talk this out," he said, following after her.

"Do you know what it's like," she said, spinning around on him. "To feel rejected for most of your life, Coulson?"

He stared back at her silently, already telegraphing his regret.

"It hurts less when it isn't someone you love."

"You aren't the only one with feelings here, Skye!"

"I know that," she said, frowning at him. "The other night was a pretty good indication."

"How so?" he asked.

" _Inviting me to your room_?"

"I needed to know how far it would go," he answered.

She walked back to where he was and pulled on the lapels of his suit, kissing him before he could react.

"What about now, _Phil_?" she asked, whispering against his mouth. "How far will it go?"

He kissed her back hard, pushing her up against the nearest car, her breath catching for a moment, her eyes flashing at his under the street lights.

"That's really not the problem," he said, his mouth slipping across her neck. "It's more...that I can't...once you...," he said, dotting her with kisses.

"You won't say no to me," she said, understanding, with a groan.

"I want you to say no," he said, staring down at her.

"But you won't."


	3. Quantum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An agreement is reached. Not sure how it went this way, just had feels.
> 
> My listening inspiration: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUFJJNQGwhk

"Symmetry," he said, his hand at her waist in his office, as they swayed to the music.

"That's the word I've been looking for."

"Mmm," she said, raising her eyebrows at his obvious attempt to be charming.  "Took you long enough." 

"It usually does," he said with an apologetic smile. "Thankfully, you see things differently than I do."

They'd found themselves taking a pause after the parking lot escapade two weeks ago.

Except, it wasn't helping.  They'd been arguing instead.  

In the office, over big things, like the map, and smaller things, like the way he found himself tapping on his desk to her distraction and how she left coffee rings in random spots on the wood in his office.  I mean, it really did annoy him.

"Maybe I should lead?" she offered with a smirk.

"Touché," he said, taking her hand and turning her.

"And yet we still manage to meet...somehow," she said, listening to the blues music play in the background. "Even when it looks like we're heading in opposite directions."

"Your pull's just too strong," he drew her back into his chest, leaning in so his head was touching hers.

His solution (it had been _his_ idea, and he'd thought about it a lot) was to wait until it was late and she was still there in his office, still at the carvings.  He put on the record and asked her to dance.

Curiosity won out in the end, and she'd agreed.

"I'm only doing this if we are both on the same page," she said over her shoulder.

"I understand," he replied, his arms enveloping hers. "And what's clear is when I do this without you, it suffers."

"What does?"

"All of it," he said, frowning slightly.

"Taking one for the team again, huh?" she said, pulling away and standing alone.

"Skye, that's not what I meant."

"Sure sounds that way," she said.  

"I've been thinking about what we're building," he said.  "About SHIELD."

"Nice, I'm getting compared to red tape," she replied flatly.

"No," he said, reaching out for her again, pulling her into his arms.

Her face had a bit of a warning label on it.

"I've tried to understand," he said coaxing, getting her to move with him again. "Why I feel different.  Since we met."

He tried a smile. "And of course I told myself a lot of stuff, because, frankly, we are two _very_ different people."

The way he said it made Skye raise her eyebrow.

"And then I realized what it was," he said, stopping to look at her.

"I don't feel alone.  When I'm with you," he said, startled at the emotion in his own voice.  "I can't even remember the last time I felt like I had a home."

He was fidgeting, watching her frozen, staring back at him.  "I just...wondered if... _maybe? You_ felt the same...?"

Cut off in mid-sentence, she threw her arms around his neck and buried him in a kiss.  His hands slipped around her waist and pulled her in tight.

"Phil," she said, afterwards, tugging at his lapels, "I'm glad you took your time with that."

She gave an approving nod.

"Me too," he said, "Because, I was looking at it all wrong. What I can't have instead of what I do.  I have exactly what I need, Skye."

She stared back at him, looking between his mouth and his eyes, then pulled him along by his tie, kissing him slowly as she backed them up against the desk.

The hand on the record player slipped at the bump and sent the music away.

They stood there in silence as she loosened his tie with one hand, pulling it away from his neck, letting it slip to the floor. Her fingers slowly on the buttons of his shirt as he watched her, unable to turn off the rush of words in his head.

Love. And Skye. And love. And Skye.

When he couldn't take the agonizing pace, he leaned forward and kissed her the way he had always wanted to, not with hesitation or desperation, but with knowing.  The assurance of what they were together. He wasn't just a desperate man in his mid-life crisis, or the Director of SHIELD or any of the other things he'd convinced himself made this impossible.

Everything had changed.

She finally was done with his shirt and managed to work it down his arms as he slid of out it, watching her look at the jagged scar on his chest.

 "You're different?" she asked, running her fingers over it.

"Very," he said, leaning forward and placing shallow kisses on her throat.  She happily slid into his arms and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck to encourage him as he bucked his hips against hers in answer.

Sliding back onto the desk, he pushed the player and some books away with one hand and grabbed at her hip to help her up, sliding his tongue into her mouth as they moved together.

Her leg slid up around his back pulling him forward as she kissed him hungrily and leaned back against the desk to look up at him as she arched her back and pulled her t-shirt up and over her head.

Leaning over her, he touched his thumb against her lower lip. "You're so beautiful, Skye."

"And you're my home, Phil," she said, brushing her fingers against the hair at his temple.

They kissed again, like the sun was coming up, like the world was being laid out new in front of them for the first time.  Exploring this new place they had discovered together.  That they were building.

His hands were joyfully on the button of her jeans, like there was nothing else he's rather be doing in this moment.  She laughed as he kissed her stomach and pulled them down, having to yank a bit harder because they were so tight.

And then she was kissing him frantically, working at the stupid belt on his stupid trousers, and suddenly he was in her hands and coming alive at the loving gaze of her eyes all over his body, like she had discovered something secret and sacred.  And it seemed unbelievable, but, it wasn't.

Then he buried his face against hers, whispering her name as she brought him inside, sighing and smiling as he slowly moved over her, giving up everything of himself to this moment, his hands and mouth all over her body.

And she was right there with him. But he realized, then, she had always been right there.

It was so easy and so hard for it to end.  

And it was symmetry.

 

 


End file.
